She Relocated for Love, Would You?

GASP! That’s the response I got every single time I would say I’m moving to NY — for a boy. 

Yep, I wanted to be near my man. As a career-driven woman, moving away from family in Indiana in 2011 wasn’t really a hard decision for me, since I had lived in over five cities during my adulthood. My mother begged me to consider what I’d be giving up (I’m her only child), never thinking about what I would gain (as one of my wise sorors reminds me of to this day).

I was born in the Midwest; however, I consider NY as the place that “raised me.” I accepted a position at an industry leading company and relocated to NY at the age of 26. It was here where I met Bryan shortly after 9/11/01. 

Fast forward — almost a decade later during a girls’ trip to New York with my college buddies (love those women), Bryan slid in my DMs on Facebook asking if I was in town. A few exchanges, and we decided to meet for drinks to catch up. Though it was meant to be a simple “meet up,” it was one of the longest “dates” that I had been on since he and I dated the first time  around in 2002. We could always talk for hours about any and everything. This time around, he was newly single and a father. We definitely had a lot to catch up on.

The day after our date, a snow storm pounded New York City, and I ended up stranded there for almost a week. Bryan and I met up daily — hanging out, talking, catching up, and really just re-igniting a friendship that once was. When he dropped me off at the airport on Christmas Eve, I was shockingly sad. I wondered if the nostalgia of hanging out was causing my emotions to be all over the place. I boarded the plane and chalked it up as a fun, enjoyable experience. I was headed back to Indiana.

The new year came around and Bryan suggested we make plans to see each other. Hey, I was single so I said okay. Another great weekend turned into many weekends over the next few months in Indiana and New York––with concert dates, eating at our favorite places, sightseeing, hanging with each other’s friends, and more. I couldn’t believe we were dating again. It was official. I was happy. He was happy.

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I met his daughter and, seeing them together, I immediately knew he could father my children. It took another couple of years for him to propose. He’s a thinker. I felt he waited a long time, but I now know more about how he makes decisions, and this time he was betting on me, on us. He wanted to come out a winner. I’d say he hit the jackpot! Three kids later and house in the ‘burbs, we’re still riding high.

To this day, women ask me why I moved and he didn’t? I share that his daughter plays such an integral role in who he is as a man, that I knew he would not be happy being away from her. I supported that. I also knew, as I’ve always said, that moving had just as much to do with my happiness journey as it did with making a decision that involved a man. I had so much to gain, if the cards worked in our favor. Even if they didn’t, I believed that God had a plan for me and taking the chance on love was a risk I could absorb.